A Change in the Wind
by Ancient Egyptian Dreams
Summary: Aye, a perilous journey indeed. Especially for 13 year old Jane, who was left aboard the Black Pearl to fend for herself as her father Jack was swept away to the gallows. Is there hope? [full, MUCH BETTER at explaining, sum inside.]
1. Silent Getaway

**Disclaimer: _No, I do not own "Pirates of the Caribbean". As much as I'd love to, I do not. _**

"A Change in the Wind"

**Full Summary: **(15 years after the movies) Captain Jack and his crew have been unexpectedly captured by Admiral Norrington in the middle of the ocean, but they have missed one—Jane Sparrow, Jack's thirteen year old daughter, who was left aboard the Black Pearl to fend for herself, while her father was sent off to be executed.

Not to mention the son of Will and Elizabeth had snuck aboard Norrington's ship, stealing scraps from the kitchen and living in a small covered boat. Now he has the perfect opportunities to meet up with the most feared pirate in all the Caribbean, Jack, and become quite a helping hand in means of escape.

Only two weeks, they say, back to Port Royale.

But there's more to the story than believed. Over fourteen years ago, a map that would take you anywhere you wanted, if you simply asked it to, had been quarreled over by a captain and his crew member. They each took a section of it, and went off, leaving the full parchment by itself. Now the map in coming back into talk and everybody is looking for it—even Ana Maria's crew, and a few members of the Royal Navy.

So, maties, here's the basic review of it all: Ana Maria's with Jane whilst her crew has taken her ship and gone for the map, John's with Jack (who's set to be executed) and the Royal Navy (who's looking for the same thing at the same time), and everybody eventually goes looking for this legendary map that will supposedly take you anywhere you want if you ask, and if you can get past it's mysterious seal…

(Confusing?)

Well, I welcome you aboard this little twisting, treasure hunting, mess of a story.

If ye dare.

**A/N:** Thanks so, so, so, so, so, so much to La Flamingo and my sister for giving me C&C and for editing. If it weren't for them, this chapter would never be what it is right now! THANKS A MILLION!

Well, please enjoy! **As a side note, this is made after the rest 4 chapters, as I am editing and making this more refined. Thus, the chapters after chapter 2, currently, are not edited. But feel free to read anyway!

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It was early morning, nearly six o' clock, and the sun already streaked the crystal blue horizon line. Merchants paced from corner to corner while the natives sold their earnings of fresh fish and clams for a half penny. The bargaining villagers crowded in the moist, grungy town seeking ribbon, bolts of cloth and substances for meals as peasants pushed their way for anything they meagerly could. Sailors bristled in either the local tavern or aloft the sands itching for adventure on the Caribbean's calm seas, while animals, whether seagull, rat, chicken or dog, sifted among them carelessly. Inward laid the governor's palace and divine British fort; its inhabitants either going about their business and their townsmen's. Seemingly, the normal chat and bustle of the day was no different from the day before.

But appearances had deceived. In 18th century Port Royal, a fifteen year old escapee twisted easily through the crowds, deftly making himself unaware by his people. His deep eyes scowled maliciously, his strong jaw clinched firmly in anger, nostrils flaring. Though the brimming heat of the day would mercilessly boil the insides of any regular outsider, this youth had become quickly accustomed, feeling no fine reason to not place his worn, navy blue tri corn upon his dirty blonde head and wear his above average wool overcoat. After all, he would need it later. Generally his leather knee high boots made him feel proud, but now he was simply glad there was something to protect his feet from the putrid waste beneath him.

_I did the right thing. They will not tell me, so I shall have to find it out myself._ Silently he justified himself, same as he had for weeks, eyes firmly fastened on the colossal Navy vessels that bordered the thin beach. _They_ _cannot keep me any longer. I am a man. I deserve to know._ As he spun rebellious lines in his mind, the brisk youth fought his dieing conscience, deeming it was he who had grasped the point of victory.

"Where's that pompous Norrington, anyway?" He muttered under his heated breath.

"Indeed, Governor. We intend to get that rapscallion in this two week's time, I can assure you." As if on cue, Admiral James Norrington's haughty voice emitted, triggering the instant halt of the teenager's athletic body. The British Navy commander, clad in plumed hat, admirable jacket and all, was conversing with the Port Royal's governor as he awaited his ship by the busy harbor.

"I hope you are correct, Norrington. It _has_ been nearly sixteen years since your last close encounter with the scoundrel." Governor Weatherby Swann articulated, uncomforted by the Admiral's firm guarantee. Irritated by the sordid surroundings, which were incredibly detestable in comparison to his fortress, the governor feathered off his lavish canary blue coat pocket in one arrogant swipe and slightly adjusted his curly gray wig with stealth.

The adolescent male lightly snickered to himself, an all-knowing smile creeping onto his hidden visage. Instantly his thoughts jumped from the affluent men's conversation to the age-old beauty of the Interceptor's lacquered hull that collided with the swashing ocean as it anchored._ There she is._ His heart pounded with excitement, but also hesitation. _Now's your chance. _Glancing from side to side, he made sure of his secrecy. Steps carefully planned, the escapee inched along towards the port, ducking and pausing several moments. Furtively hunching behind a row of boxes, he made his way to the ramp in nearly two minutes. Now perched at the edge of the ramp, he was quick to be pleased without himself.

"Jonathan, my boy!" exclaimed an all too familiar voice from the escapee's back.Jonathan Turner abruptly halted, angrily dug his heel into the sand, grunted, and then twirled reluctantly towards his grandfather, the advancing Governor Swann. _Great._

"My, son, what are you doing at this time of hour?" Weatherby smiled warmly as he approached his impeded grandson. Yet he stood confused, "I thought you would be eating breakfast with your family, is that not correct?"

"Father let me observe the _Interceptor_ sail off today. I had decided to eat my meal two hours earlier." Hoping to engage in conversation only shortly, if at all, Jonathan provided a feign smile and lied. Norrington's ship could leave any moment!

Norrington, ears quick to hear any discussion of his ship, became alert instantly, moving away from his perch towards the prow and pushing back towards Jonathan and the governor. During his steady pace, he began to speak. "And I cannot blame you, Mr. Turner. The Interceptors beauty and speed is unmatched by any craft aboard the sea today," he added to Jonathan's excuse conceitedly.

Jonathan nodded hastily, impatience nagging at his legs. Nervously he glanced at the Interceptor, noticing the quickening agitation upon the deck.

The Governor hated silence, especially if he was also the one making it. This small conversation was enough for him. "Well, I ought to be going. Good day, Admiral Norrington, Jonathan." With that, he took grasp of his ornate cane and started his carriage.

"Well, it looks like my ship is nearly ready to set sail. I need to prepare before the voyage. Good day to you, Mr. Turner." Swiftly Norrington nodded his head in conclusion of the trivial chat and walked up the _Interceptor_'s towering ramp.

Silently Jonathan followed him several feet behind. Reaching the top, Norrington halted, observed the tidy deck, and then paced towards his cabin. Jonathan sighed in relief. As unaware crew bustled above and below deck, the youth slinked into a small, wooden covered boat. _I did it. Am I sure... this is what I want to do?_ His glazed eyes peered sentimentally over the steady ocean, awaiting an unforgettable journey to find the most infamous pirate of all the Caribbean.

His name? Captain Jack Sparrow.

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Wha-la! I enjoyed writing this one very much. Please feel free to provive C&C, and as always I appreiciate reviews! - Ancient Egyptian Dreams

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	2. With No Interruptions

**Disclaimer: _No, I do not own "Pirates of the Caribbean". As much as I'd love to, I do not. _**

**A/N:** Thanks as always to La Flamingo. :)

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**Chapter 2**

It was a quiet day at the Black Pearl; the waves steadily rolling in rhythm. Today everyone was lazy, hardly doing anything but playing chess and drinking whiskey. The ship had not been going anywhere in particular; it was just setting there, swaying along with tired ocean. It was a perfect day for sword practice.

Thirteen year old Jane Sparrow's brown curly hair whipped at her face as she swung out powerfully with a small rapier (for, even as tall as she was, could not handle father's swords just yet) and pegged down the left sleeve of a man to the wooden planks of the cabin door. The rapier, the sleeve, and the wrist attached to the sleeve hit the heavy oak with an audible thud. "Is _that _how you do it?" she asked, nearly breathless. Her ocean-sized turquoise eyes gleamed as she bit her crimson lips in excitement. As she set her hands on her tattered loose brown dress, Jane began to take a step forward, taking care in not tripping over her frayed shoelaces, which belonged to a near-to-death pair of leather boots.

The man, who happened to be Captain Jack Sparrow, smiled at his daughter, saying, "You're doing perfect. You know, Jane, I think you're going to be the best, most feared pirate in all the Caribbean." he tried pulling the sword out, but found it almost impossible.

Jane's face sparkled, completely ignoring the stuck sword. Then, she paused and thought about it a moment, looking up at her father with a glint in her eye, as if she was not sure if he meant it or not. "_Really?_"

The captain yanked the sword out with a little bit of difficulty, using all his strength he had left. After dusting his shirt off where he had been pinned, Jack Sparrow carefully handed the weapon to his daughter. He then laid his tanned hand on her shoulder. "Yes, really."

"Ahoy!" Crimp, on the lookout, yelled for attention. He closed his looking glass; eyes bulging with fear. "To the starboard side! It's the British navy!"

Jack's head swiveled to his left; this was the _last_ thing he needed.

Suddenly, there was a large explosion. Realizing that an enemy ship had begun shooting at them and that the Navy meant for a possible battle, Jack began roaring out orders. He made sure that he still possessed his gun before he realized who was head of the enemy's ship—Admiral James Norrington.

Armed with deadly muskets the Navy began a little war between them and the Black Pearl. Oddly, in the midst of them as well, was a fourteen-year-old boy, reluctantly running along with everyone else.

-----

Jane, whose rapier wavered in her unsteady hand, stood upright and lifeless as the commotion began. This was out of her league, she thought. She was anything but used to this sort of action. If they were pirates, then she would be. She was one her self. But the British _navy_? Definitely _not_. This was not just another raid. These men were prepared. These men were ready to do anything necessary to make the Black Pearl surrender.

For some unexplainable reason, she noticed a boy among the soldiers. His dark blonde hair was falling out of his bow, and his eyes seemed as if they were looking nowhere. His face was dirty; his clothes were tattered and torn. He must have been fourteen years old. To herself, Jane admitted he was remarkably handsome, but of course, she did not know the difference – she had never seen anyone around her age, no less one of the opposite gender. She could not tell what he was trying to accomplish; he kept running this way and that, ducking from sight then popping back up again.

-----

"_What did I do, what did I do?"_ John Turner was mentally kicking himself as he tried to hide from the soldiers, which was rather easy – to them he was just as good as invisible. This is what you wanted, right? To see real pirates? To live your life as a sailor? he asked himself. His conscience was telling him something else, though, and he desperately wanted to know it was wrong. He had snuck aboard Admiral Norrington's ship, lived in a small covered boat, and ate what he could steal from the kitchen, just so he could know what living aboard a deck was like–and make his parents feel miserable. How foolish, his conscience told him. Now his parents were probably worrying about him as well and angry, not knowing where he was. How foolish! He mentally kicked himself again. _"Stupid, Stupid Turner!"_ he was now beginning to miss home, miss his parents, his little brother…

Suddenly John shook from his self-pity. His eyes gazed upon a thirteen-year-old girl who looked strangely familiar. She fought fiercely, but he could tell at the same time she was scared. He saw the shock in face as she plunged her rapier into one of her enemy's bodies; she stared for a minute before a middle-aged man in rather uncanny attire and look grabbed her attention.

John's hazel eyes froze as the flash of black whipped into his line of sight, making his heart leap with a sense of an unknown excitement. He found himself inching closer to take a better look of the mysterious man, studying his garb a little closer. That little black flash was indeed the pirate's long, braided hair, held back by a red bandanna. That strange accessory attached to it on struck John curiously. Though almost all pirates did indeed wear bandannas--or so he thought--the blood red color of this one, and its attachment to the raggedy black mane seemed more...legendary. Yet he did not know why.

The boy leaped backwards in an almost involuntary move, drawing in short, swift breaths through his nose. The red-bandanna pirate was barely thirty feet away from him, panning out the new enemy ship he was standing on. Thankfully, for John, though, he was not in the line of sight of the man, but he was still able to see him if he just inched his head a little to the side…

The man targeted a private who had no idea of what was to become of him. He took no notice of the John in the near distance; instead, he pursued fighting with his black-lined eyes and odd way of... going about things. He pulled out his old-fashioned gun and fired it, his gigantic ruffled sleeve swishing about.

Wait a minute—a ruffled sleeve? It was official, then. This man was crazy. No, insane. An ordinary pirate would hardly ever wear a ruff—

Of course! When the identity of the eccentric character dawned on John, his mouth flung open and his eyes turned as large as royalty's medallions. That man—that man with that black eyeliner—

That man was the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.

No, not possible! Not probable! John protested his knowledge. Sparrow–the one he had thought was only a myth... a legend, but not _real_.

"Get out of my way, boy!" one of the Navy officers growled at the boy, grabbing John's ripped shirt and shoving him out of the way. Abruptly the man stopped. "Boy?" he swirled around on his heel, facing him. "T… Turner? Jonathan Turner! What in blazes are you doing _here_?"

John, still trying to believe that Sparrow was even plausibly real, stood already at attention, with eyes wide and mouth barely closed. He was not truly thinking about replying right now—he was to busy staring into the Admiral's eyes, which were staring at him all the same.

Admiral Norrington was dumfounded. Here was Will and Elizabeth Turner's son Jonathan, who he had only seen a few times since he was born, standing right in front of him. It was especially awkward since Elizabeth was his ex-fiancé. However, what was Jonathan doing there in the first place? Surely the boy's parents would have given him _some_ sort of notice. Then it finally struck him—the boy had snuck aboard.

Great, Norrington thought and frowned. Now he had a huge dilemma. There Jack was, out numbered and on the ship (an easy possible capture), and there John was, a runaway who now he felt he was responsible for. He growled in frustration as he told John, "Stay put, and don't get yourself into trouble!"

John nodded instantly, for he knew that right now was _not_ the time to be getting into more trouble than he already was. At the same time the Admiral's words simply went in one ear and out the other, for his own thoughts instantly drew back again to Jack, whom Norrington had already confronted.

All the commotion abruptly stopped. "Jack, Jack, Jack." Norrington addressed slowly to his prisoner, making sure he was loud enough for everyone to hear. He held his chest high, holding his hand behind his back, gazing proudly down at the pirate.

Jack's crew had all ready been cornered and chained, but the Navy had missed one. Jane had hidden down in the rusted prisoner holding, where she had many years ago found the perfect hole for peering out.

"Never thought I'd see _you_ again, especially after all these years. Honestly, I thought you'd be dead by now, rotting at the bottom of the sea somewhere." The Admiral gave a haughty smirk, walking slowly back and forth, stopping every now and then to face his enemy.

"We all have our own disappointments in life, mate—and I'm honored to be one of yours." Jack Sparrow grinned cheekily at the annoyed Norrington. Jack—One, Norrington—None.

Jane, still listening to the conversation, giggled at her father's remark, but instantly stopped when she heard the Navy officer continue. "Well, Jack. As always, I have my duty to the King--"

"Oh, by the way, how are Mr. and Mrs. Turner?" Jack interrupted, searching, and searching with ease, to distract from the subject. Norrington's men crowed behind and beside him, staring at him or confining Jack's crew. Jane... where is she? He wondered frantically, though he hid his distraught well. Maybe she hid. Yes, that's my Jane.

John's face blanked. How does _he_ know Mother and Father?

"They're fine—" the Navy officer replied.

"Ah, that's good, that's good…" Jack muttered, his brown beady eyes staring at the pestered Admiral.

"Yes. Now, Mr. Sparrow, if you would be so obliged to let me continue..." Norrington cleared his throat, but he once more stood cut short.

"You know, Norrington, you look mighty… older than when I last saw you. I guess the Caribbean just isn't your thing, eh?"

The British man had had enough of this. He glared down at his prisoner, continuing as though he had never been cut off in the first place. "As my duty to the king, I am to bring you back to Port Royale, where _you_ can get _your _proper punishment—with no interruptions this time."

Everyone knew exactly what this meant. Jack was to be executed.

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Well, there it is! Please review and feel free to give me any C&C you think necessary! –Ancient Egyptian Dreams 


	3. Just a Harmless Pirate

_Chapter 2: Just a Harmless Pirate_

**Disclaimer:** Well, as much as I _wished_ I owned POTC, I do not, and if I did… well, I wouldn't be putting this little disclaimer thingy here, obviously.

**A/N:** Thanks again to La Flamingo, my sis, and my friends. You guys (and Captain Jack Sparrow, of course) rock!

I would really appreciate any reviews, too :)

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__Everyone knew exactly what this meant. Jack was to be executed._

Jane nearly lost her breath at the Admiral's threatening words. This could not be happening! She stared hopelessly through the jagged peep hole, awaiting the worst.

---

Those coal-streaked eyes stared at him in wry amusement. It took all of Norrington's self-control not to start cursing or acting too gleeful. He assumed a straight, cold demeanor.

"Good day, Mr. Sparrow."

Sparrow blinked slowly, and opened his mouth, again.

"I'd say the same to you, Mr. Norrington, but being that you are, with the Royal

Navy an' all, not every day would be good, would it?"

Norrington refused to rise to the bait, instead giving a prim smile and motioning for the pirate to be brought below deck. Wordlessly the crew men began to drag the infamous Jack Sparrow down the stairs. Norrington continued to stand, perched above, until he realized there was one more thing he needed taken care of.

He took stiff steps towards that boy in ratted clothing; whose gleaming eyes seemed to be looking nowhere in particular. But while John's face was utterly emotionless, his mind was swirling with questions for the confined pirate.

The Admiral took this quiet moment to speak up. "And as for you, young Mr. Turner… what are you to say for yourself? Your parents never made me aware of your coming, so I suppose you took the liberty to come here on your own—am I correct?" Norrington frowned, glaring. He had met with this boy before, and for some reason this little runaway scheme of John's didn't seem all too surprising.

"...Mr. Turner!" As the boy's head shot towards the man, James prompted, "Am I

correct?"

His face finally registered. But when he realized who had been yelling at him, John's words turned into chopped up sentences. "Y-yes, sir?" he sputtered, shaking his head slightly to regain his senses. He dared not stare into the judging eyes of the Admiral.

Norrington sighed through his nose, "Very well, then." He growled. "It is about a two week's journey back to Port Royale, and I plan to bring you back with us. You are to obey my commands without question…. And you are not to be taking any visits with our new prisoner. He is a horrible man. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

"And may I ask why you came aboard here all by yourself in the first place?" the Admiral stared even deeper this time, watching John's every flinch.

"I-I-I-I wanted to see…" Did he dare tell him? No, not since there was one on board… "I wanted to see what it was like to live on a ship, sir."

_To live on a ship? Why would he have to sneak aboard? He practically lived in Port Royale, for goodness sake!_ Norrington found this excuse rather odd, indeed. No doubt the boy was lying through his teeth, but at the moment the Admiral had no time to dwell on it.

The Navy ship proudly began to sail off with its captive, leaving its captive's young daughter to fend for herself on the legendary Black Pearl.

---

Jane stared despairingly as the ship went farther and farther into the orange horizon line. Her heart sunk deep into her chest, her mouth becoming dry from gaping. _Alright, Jane. You're on your own. What would father do...? _She second thought that one over._ What _would_ father do?_ That was a rather good question. Before she realized it, warm tears were running down her filthy cheeks, forming dull lines down them. Jane curled up, hugging her legs and burying her face into her knees. She began to sob loudly, muttering and spitting out random phrases.

_Maybe… maybe there's hope._ Jane drew in a large breath then quickly exhaled it, wiping away the water from her red eyes. She stared at her rapier for a moment and then picked it up gently. _I must get him back… Oh, no! _Her hopes were instantly crushed again.

She could not possibly run this ship on her own! It was beyond unachievable.

There had to be _some_ way out of this incredible mess!

---

The quill scratched against the parchment as he wrote, creating the only noise within the dimly lit cabin. Norrington halted and sighed in annoyance.

"C'mon, mate. I'm just a harmless pirate. Never killed anyone but the ugly." A familiar, muffled voice came from behind the thick cabin door. You could almost see the smile that lay on its owner's face. The Admiral half ignored it and continued to write with a sense of excitement and complete irritation.

Then there was a rapid knocking at the door. Norrington once again stopped writing and in exasperation threw the quill violently back into the ink bottle.

"What is it?" he snapped.

From behind the hard oak a voice spoke meekly. "Admiral Norrington, sir, he's here."

From behind the door the second mate gave a fearful whimper as the portal in front of him swung open and he found himself face to face with his furious superior.

"I know, you fool, that he's here. I hear him." Norrington gave one flickered glance of annoyance before motioning the men to bring his captive further in.

A jolt of anger rushed through James' veins as his crew fulfilled his commands. He remembered how he hated this man. How he wished to watch Jack die. And as much as he wished to get it over with sooner, he thought it best to humiliate the pirate in Port Royale as best as he could. But that was easier said than done. Norrington was ready to strangle Sparrow for every single step he had made. He gave a small, fake smile as his arch-nemesis entered his quarters.

"Hello again, Mr. Sparrow."

---

The young pirate found her way back up to deck after stomping up the dreadfully squeaky stairs in anguish; the rapier, which was strapped onto her, bonking against them. When she got to the top, she simply gazed into the crystal sea. Where to begin? "Oh, it's hopeless." She breathed, trying to fight back the tears that were trying to form once again. _Father had been unjustly marooned before and he got out of it in only three days!_ She figured. Then the girl realized that he was also on an island, not a boat, and he was able to rope a couple of sea turtles. Jane walked over to the side of the ship and fell on her knees. In complete silence she folded her arms and placed them on the barrier, nestling her face in them. The sun was already set by now, and this would be her first night alone.

"I'm going to find him. I must."

---

"Captain Sparrow... he's on board! I must be daydreaming again." That phrase was becoming a familiar one after spending hours of nothing but paying attention to his thoughts. John was supposed to be sleeping now that it was dark, but his mind would not allow it. The eerie silence of the rocking ship was now completely ignored as John stared up at the wooden ceiling. But his curiosity got the better of him. He carefully pulled off his covers and inched his way to the door, opening it cautiously. The moonlight added a sense of adventure to this undertaking of his. Quickly he ducked behind a large barrel, hearing a loud, sudden noise. Once he noticed the source of the sound he rolled his eyes and faintly grunted at the ridiculousness of it all.

Two new recruits in their clean uniforms and polished shoes were standing guard right outside Norrington's cabin—at least, that's what they were supposed to be doing. The two of them had fallen asleep, and now one of them was beginning to snore.

"Who _was_ she?" A yelling came from inside Norrington's quarters. "Answer me, Jack!"

John crept closer to hear the conversation a little easier; adjusting his dark blue hat his father had given him to completely hide his peering eyes.

"No one, as I've told you before. I have absolutely no idea who you're talking about." Captain Sparrow said coolly in reply.

_That… girl? They must be talking about her._ John figured. Again he walked nearer, trying his best not to awake the guards. He stepped onto a large bucket, trying not to fall over as he inched his head just far up to see through the paned windows. There Captain Jack and the Admiral were; Norrington standing behind his oak desk threateningly, looking as if the only thing missing was steam coming off his face, and there was Jack, sitting down, chomping on an apple which he had taken the liberty of eating, a faint, cunning smile plastered on his face.

"And for_ some_ reason, I don't believe you." Norrington growled sarcastically. There had to be some way to get this man to talk! "If you don't tell me who she is, then I'll--"

"'Ey! Boy! You're supposed to be sleepin'!" Oh no. The guards had woken from their slumber all too soon.

In fright John lost his balance and fell onto the deck ground, the bucket going along with him, creating a deafening bang as it hit the floor.

Norrington frowned and rolled his eyes. "Turner." He muttered angrily.

Jack's ears perked. _Turner? What's he doing here?_

"Ugh. Leave him to me, gentlemen! You both go and take Mr. Sparrow back, now." The Admiral began making his way to go take care of the mischief maker. "I'm going to get that name out of you, if it's the last thing I do." He glared at the pirate, who simply grinned.

"Mr. Turner!" Norrington's patience was dangling by a thread. But he dare not do anything harmful to the boy, for fear of what the boy's grandfather –the former governor of Port Royale- might do to him. He scowled down at John, ready to shout his off his head in complete frustration. "You were to stay in bed, and not go running off in the middle of the night. You deliberately disobeyed my commands."

While the furious Admiral was waiting for "mischief maker" to say anything, Jack Sparrow was being taken across deck to his holding. Of course, that clever pirate had even more to say. "Turner, eh? You don't happen to be the son of a _William_ Turner, do you?"

"Oh, be quiet, Sparrow." Norrington snapped, scowling even harder.

The guards dragged the talkative prisoner down the stairs for the second time that day, trying to keep their eyes open at the same time. Once they were out of earshot, Norrington came back to John. "Never mind him, he's an idiotic man—he has no sense left in that mind of his." There was a moment of silence. "John, you've barely spoken three words to me in a whole sentence today."

John simply held his straight face, keeping his mouth tightly closed. But there was one question he wanted to know the answer of. "Is that really Captain Jack Sparrow? My parents told me that he was real -but of course warned me to stay away from any pirate, no matter whom- and yet…"

The Admiral frowned. Releasing a heavy sigh, he decided to reply. "I'm afraid your parents were right. That is Jack Sparrow, as irritating as always. Now it's off to your bed—and you're to stay put."

---

Sure, like _John_ was about to stay in bed while an infamous pirate was aboard.

Again the rebellious boy made his way out of his sleeping chambers and back to the deck. Those two foolish guards were asleep once more, and hopefully they'd stay that way a little longer this time.

"We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot. Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho…" a faint singing came from below. The boy cautiously made his way down below, desperately hoping not to awake anyone who may still be down in the horribly lit room. John's heart raced as he took small steps towards the pirate's cell. _Alright, just be careful. You're simply going to ask him some questions-that's all._

"An' really bad e--…Boy?" Darn it. The pirate heard him first.

John peeked his head out from behind the wall. There Jack sat, in his pitiful little cell, wondering who exactly was peering about. "A-Aye?" the boy whispered, hardly creating a sound. He cleared the lump in his throat and re-answered. "Aye, sir?"

The captive tried to get a better look at him, cocking his head slightly. "C'me 'ere, son."

_What_ exactly_ did this pirate have in mind?_ John asked himself, frightened. Hesitantly he took meek steps towards the cell. "Yes?"

"You hadn't answered me before, so I'll ask you again. Are you the son of a William Turner?" Jack asked.

"I-" The boy second thought his answer. "I _may_ be. Why?"

"Well, you see, I knew a William Turner… he was a good friend of mine… then he got married to Elizabeth and I didn't see 'im much after that… And mostly because I'm just a horribly curious pirate." Sparrow grinned.

Nothing.

"By the way, how did you get to be aboard a ship like this, if you don't mind me asking?" Jack questioned.

"I...I wanted to see pirates... My parents have always warned me not to associate with them… but… I was 'horribly curious', as it seems." John replied earnestly.

"Ah! Well, you've come to the right place!" Jack opened his arms wide, smiling his golden tooth smile. For some reason this didn't make John feel any more relaxed or comforted.

"…Norrington was asking you about a girl. I saw one earlier today—is that who he was asking about? Who is she? I mean, I thought woman were 'bad luck' on a ship?"

"Heh. Just an ol' myth, boy." The pirate inched closer, his trinkets clanging together, beady eyes staring into John's. "Can you keep a secret?"

John nodded, eagerly waiting for Jack to continue.

"That girl… _that_ girl is my daughter."

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Okie dokie, there it is! I hoped you enjoyed it. –Ancient Egyptian Dreams 


	4. Split in Half

_Chapter 3 – Split in Half_

**Disclaimer:** Nope, nope, nope. I don't own POTC, except for the 1st movie on DVD (lol). I _do _own anything that isn't here from the movies, though (Jane, John, map etc.)

**A/N:** I SAW THE 2nd MOVIE! I am soo happy, _happy_, **_happy_**! I won't say anything; otherwise I shall accidentally spoil everything for you.

Oh, and sorry for some confusion. In the first chapter, where it talks about Will and Elizabeth, the timeline's a tad mixed up. So John actually left two weeks before the story begins, and they find the letter on the day he left. Now, when I re-introduce them, the time is the same as the rest of the chapter. Am I making sense?

By the way, this story is going to have a certain "treasure", after all. So the name may change eventually. Just read to find out!

Thanks to all those who reviewed, and La Flamingo! I really appreciate it.

_**Edit**: One new paragraph (second in "Ana Maria and Jane" section), thanks and credit to La Flamingo. As well just some minor editing (describing etc.) in the "Will and Elizabeth" part._

_

* * *

"__That girl… that_girl_ is my daughter."_"girl 

John's eyes bulged, his mouth seeming to be ready to fall to the wood floor. _Sparrow?_ "A... daughter? You? I didn't think pirates _had_ daughters, let alone children in the first place." He sputtered.

Jack simply smirked and shrugged, slumping back onto the hay-covered floor.

John stood there for a moment contemplating this odd existence of the pirate's daughter, his eyebrows firmly knitted together in confusion. "So… Norrington doesn't know about her?" he asked.

"If he did, he wouldn't be asking me, now would he?"

John sighed at the obviousness of his own question. "Well, yes, I suppose. But I never saw her being brought aboard. She might be… gone" the young Turner dared not bring himself to say anything more.

Jack slightly shook his head in objection, "No, no, not my Jane. She's still on the Pearl, I know it. She has her way of… disappearing from the scene, shall we say."

"But- if she's still on the Black Pearl, and Norrington has your crew…"

The pirate frowned, his legendary posture seeming to have vanished into a fatherly state of mind. Jack's beady eyes softened; worry replacing mischievousness. He said nothing; he did not even look at the young Mr. Turner. Finally after a moment of silence, Jack was ready to speak. "I--"

"A map, that will take you anywhere you want, just like that? Ha! That's ridiculous! There's no such thing as a map that can take you anywhere you want just like that—it's impossible!" A subtle, yet obviously skeptical voice came from above. Judging by the whispering and heavy British accent, it must've been one of the guards.

"But it _is_ true! I know it!" someone complained back, having a lighter, younger voice. "If you can find it, then you simply ask where ye want to go, and boom! You're there. It's been around for centuries." The noise trailed off, but then picked up again. "It has a large red seal on it, with a pirate emblem. It's said that over fourteen 'ears ago, two pieces were taken, one by a legendary capt'n, the other by his crew member, who had had a fit and quit the job." A pause. Then the first voice inquired, "Who was this legendary pirate?"

"The capt'n so happens to be our little captive 'ere, Jack Sparrow."

---

Silence crowded the Turner's parlor, the crackling fire lightening up the solemn room. A man and wife sat on either side of the marble hearth, not knowing what to do or what to say. It was dark out –almost midnight— the moon glimmering in the sky; but they couldn't let themselves sleep, not when they were in so much worry on their minds.

Two weeks had already passed for the Turners since John's disappearance. They had searched frantically for their rebellious son, only to find out that the best possible explanation was that he had snuck on a ship—and that ship was most likely Admiral Norrington's.

Will had the pitiful note clenched in his hand as he kept re-reading the scribbled words. He exhaled deeply, fearing it would be a helpless case. "Norrington's left over two weeks ago, looking for Jack, as always." he paused, trying to find a way to soothe his wife's fears, "John should be safe with him, though. I heard it only another two weeks till the ship returns."

Elizabeth would not say a word; instead she had her arm propped up on the arm of the soft red chair, resting her cheek on her hand, fiddling with the frills on her embroidered handkerchief with the other.

"Elizabeth? You've been staring at the rug all night." Will finally stated, seizing his wife's blank gaze.

"I'm sorry, Will. It's just that… What if Norrington ever did capture Jack? I already know what would be first on John's mind… he would go straight to him, no doubt."

It was true. John had a horribly bad habit of finding out things he should not, and it was all out of pure curiosity. But what made it even worse was that John had a love for knowing about pirates. Elizabeth simply wanted him safe, but even when John was born she knew she wouldn't always be able to hide Jack's existence, and their dealings with pirates. So she didn't—and she didn't encourage her son to be one, either. But that obviously wasn't enough for her son, not at all. He wanted to be see one, just to say that he saw one.

And unknowingly, he already had… now, over eight years ago, and all his life.

"I know," Will sighed again. "But there's not much we can do about that, I'm afraid." He tried to cheer his wife up, even with his own doubts. "But Jack is a good man… to some extent, anyways."

"Oh Will," she sniffled, trying to force a smile. "I know."

---

The noises from above had already stopped, and now John had a distinct feeling he was going to have an interesting time trying to digest any information Jack would use to try to explain what those two above meant.

But it looked like the infamous pirate didn't even know. There he was, sitting on the floor, frowning and glaring down at it. He was most definitely giving this some intense thinking.

It couldn't of possibly have been _that_ map. It was a worthless piece of junk. Alright, so he _did_ find it over fourteen years ago, and fought over it (for selfish reasons, I may add) with Ana Maria, and eventually lost her as a crew member (while unfortunately retrieving that horrid, immortal monkey, too), but it was just cloth, with a giant, red seal on it. Nothin' that important.

Now he wasn't so sure.

He could distinctly recall that very day, even still. The map was just lying there, so mysteriously, waiting to be held, waiting to be taken.

"_Oh! What may this be?" Jack, a gold crown and jewels that he had plundered strung about over him, had just been going on his way out with his crew, before he noticed a rolled up parchment lying about. He smiled at himself as he examined the rolled up cloth, staring wonderingly at the little emblem on it. "Eh, worthless." He figured, and decided to leave it._

"_What's that?" Ana Maria called, looking at the thing curiously._

_Jack, selfish as he was, didn't want anyone but himself to have it, or no one should have it at al—especially not Ana Maria. "Hm? Oh, nothing! Move along, mate."_

_But Ana Maria was a hard one to convince. She kept staring at it, moving closer to it, and not before long, she quickly snatched it up. Jack was in total opposition, his arm stretch out somewhat, then in his odd way he brought it back. All he could do was frown. _

"_A map?" she wondered aloud. She tried to rip it open, but the seal did not bother to break. Jack found this to be his opportune moment. He walked up to it, grabbed the thing, and tucked it under his arm. "Ah hah, there? You see, it is worthless," he grinned, ready to walk off. The woman snatched it up again, and scowled. "I got it first."_

"_That doesn't count. I _saw_ it first." he reached for it again. Ana Maria simply snapped her arm back further._

"_It's mine, and I order you to give it back."_

_Oh, but he should've known better._

"_Captain or not, Sparrow, it's mine, and you know it. I found it, I got it, and it's _mine_. Fair and square."_

_Now the whole crew was staring at the quarreling twosome. It hadn't much surprised them—Jack and Ana Maria always made such issues into such issues, as if the world depended on only one of them to win. They were like the brother and sister that had never existed for each other, and now they had one. It was such a love-hate relationship. And right now they were leaning on the hate._

"_Mine!" Jack whined as he kept trying to grab it, his eyes the size of medallions. _

"_No, it's mine. I keep it." Ana Maria scowled even harsher; she was a bee ready to sting._

_The captain put his index finger to his chin, thought a moment, and then pointed it upwards as if he had just remembered where to go for the biggest and cheapest rum supply. "Alright, 'ow about this? I will take a small piece, and you will take another small piece, and we'll leave the rest here? Then we shall be square."_

_Ana Maria frowned, growled, and sighed. "…Fine. But they must be equal—no cheating."_

"_Of course," Jack grinned, provided a small, yet exaggerated bow._

"—_and you better not be takin' the whole thing while nobody's lookin'." The woman eyed him skeptically, trying to read Jack's mysterious body language._

"_Now why would I do something like that?" he grabbed a dagger from his leather boot, handing it to Ana Maria._

_Gibbs, still watching the truce, grunted and rolled his eyes, his arms folded. They were acting like children all over again!_

_The female crew member bent her head down for a moment while she sliced off a piece of the cloth. She stuffed that piece in her pocket, and then made a piece for Jack. She handed it to him, and carefully set the full parchment back down._

Jack pulled his deteriorating section out of his worn jacket, and examined it carefully. What was it? No doubt it was part of a map, but what kind? It looked like someone had hand painted the world, and he got the very left hand corner of it. There was a border, too, made up of painted skulls.

But only half of the original piece was there. The other he gave to someone for safe keeping, just in case.

---

The golden sun reflected off the crystal blue ocean, softly capturing the young woman's slightly tanned face, which was smothered in her brown curly locks. The weather was just as wonderful as it was the day before, seeming as if it were never to end.

Because Jane was sleeping--her head was lolling down in her collarbone gently--she had failed to notice that something was quite odd, about the ship. For one, there was sound emanating from the star-board deck, a rapid clawing noise followed not far after by some colorful language. The language began to shift its way up star-board, until finally there, perched precariously the railing of the Black Pearl, was the slight figure of a woman, nary five feet tall. She paused, head cocked at the figure of Jane, still sleeping soundly, before falling gracefully to the deck and standing. She moved forward, feet silent on the wood planks, before coming to a stop feet away from Jack Sparrow's daughter. She cocked her head once again, puzzlement crossing her features.

"Jane?"

Jane snapped up, the first thing searched for being her rapier. She swirled her head towards the source of the noise.

There a woman of African decent stood, in an over-sized muslin shirt, brown baggy pants, and tight black boots. The lady had to adjust her floppy hat and swap pieces of brunette hair out from her face before Jane actually realized who had called her name.

"Ana... Ana Maria?" the young girl's chest struggled to capture some air before she squealed. "Ana Maria! I am so glad to see you!" she ran up to her father's former crew member and gave her an enormous embrace.

Ana Maria was obviously not used to people giving her such welcomes. She politely peeled the girl off of her and gave a small smile. She had aged some, but her young, wild, adventurous heart could still be seen through her deep brown eyes. Ana Maria called out some orders to her burly crew members, who were firmly planted in her large ship, and then decided to ask some questions that needed some answering. "Where's yer father? Why do I not see anyone else aboard?"

Sadness swept over the young woman's face. "He… he and the crew were captured by the British Navy only yesterday."

"_Jack_?" It was rather easy to tell that Ana Maria had a hard time digesting this information. "Jack was captured? By the _Navy_? Oh dear…" the pirate rolled her eyes and sighed. "So… So why are you still 'ere?"

"… I hid down in the cell, so that they couldn't capture me… And they didn't. But, before I went, father told me that if he was captured, to look in Port Royale, for a family… I don't remember the name. …And then also he said that the British commander of the ship was a man named 'Norr'n'ton' or something."

"_Norrington_, you must mean." Ana Maria rolled her eyes once more and sighed disgustedly at the very sound of the name.

Jane cocked her head. "You know 'im?"

"I know about 'im. Never actually met the man—thankfully. Yer father told you to look to look for a family? Can you remember at all 'o they were?"

"Um… it was.. It was…" the young pirate struggled to remember. "Tur—tur--"

Where had she heard it before? Oh, yes. Them. "Turner?" Ana Maria corrected.

"Aye, 'Turner'. The name sounds familiar... I don't think I've met them before. You know about them too?"

Ana Maria began to look into space, her eyes glazed over. "Hmm? Oh, yes, I know…" she trailed off, her mind elsewhere.

Now she had two ships: the cursed Black Pearl and her own. Now Jack, her "something-close-to" a friend, was in danger of being executed. Should she take the girl and go rescue him? But the Turners were over in Port Royale, were they not? Couldn't Will help the pirate instead of her? It was two weeks to that "civilized" place, anyways. But…

"So... what are you going to do?" Jane interrupted the pirate's thoughts, her arms crossed as she stared wonderingly into the woman's blank eyes.

Ana Maria frowned, looking straight ahead into the horizon, daring not to return the girl's gaze. "As much as I honestly don't want to... fine. I'll go help you find Jack…. If we can find a way to deal with these ships, that is."

"Thank you, Ana Maria." Jane smiled in relief, knowing now that know there was still hope left in the world for her. "Oh, and, how did you find me?"

Ana Maria propped her leathery hands on her hips. She breathed in the salty fresh air and grinned, hazel eyes sparkling. She then stated with a proud smirk, "Once you work—_live_—on the Pearl... you tend to get very 'attached' to it, in more ways then one."

* * *

Wa-la! There it is! Interesting, no? A little change from just "she's going to go after her father… _blah, blah, blah_—The End", isn't it? I don't know if this chapter "flows" as easily, simply because of all the info I'm trying to pack into it.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, so please review! –Ancient Egyptian Dreams


	5. Savvy?

_Chapter 4: Savvy?_

**Disclaimer:** WHAA! I don't own "Pirates of the Caribbean", I'm afraid ((sniff))

**A/N:** Yesh! I got it done!

Thanks as always to La Flamingo for critiquing (I have been honored to be a Grasshopper/Cricket-in-Training under you, Mighty Master Cricket ;D), and to all my reviewers. You guys rock! (And so does Captain Jack Sparrow)

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Four days, out of a hopeful fourteen.

And there was already stirring confusion and people reeking havoc.

Ana Maria had agreed that half of her crew would be in charge of her ship, while the rest, she, and Jane ran the Black Pearl. They would save Jack, or at least try to. She thought it would work out, until they eventually found a little something she hoped they wouldn't.

---

Thud. "I must find him."

Thud. "I must find him."

Thud. "I must find him."

Jane had been repeating this phrase for over fifteen minutes now while throwing a crew member's small dagger into the post rhythmically. But this could still not satisfy her.

The moonlight glistened onto the Black Pearl's legendary deck, it's soft, yet bright halo over watching the girl's every move. Eerie silence floated in the sea and on board as the young pirate continuously interrupted it. She took no notice to the stealth aboard Ana's Maria's ship; she was far too busy being captured in her own problem and thoughts.

"I must--"

Yellow glowing light coming from Ana Maria's cabin instantly caught Jane's attention. But why? Ana Maria was aboard the Black Pearl right now, not _there_.

Jane cautiously crept up over to the Peal's rugged railings, trying to obtain a better observation point. The light flickered every now and then as dark shadows crossed its path. Soon afterwards, there was a sudden crash coming from inside.

If only they had anchored a little closer!

---

"Well lookie 'ere." Smug, one of Ana Maria's more un-loyal members of her crew, had decided to start venturing through her cabin, just to look at it, and maybe find something that was steal-worthy for him. Under his torn, worn-out cap, his short and curly, unwashed hair was carefully hidden. The hair belonged to an old, thin face that had not been shaved in ages, what left of his teeth was disturbing yellow, his clothes smelled putrid; the very look of the man would make you want to step back a few feet. But he was _unfortunately_ very clever, especially when it came to rummaging through things that were not his own.

Soon enough, drawers were on the floor, papers were crumpled up and out of place, and eventually the captain's overstuffed velvet chair came occupied by an unworthy occupant.

"Where would she 'ave it?" Smug groaned, propping his filthy elbows up on the desk in front of him. He sniffed, rather frustrated that he was not able find it already.

"Bong. Bong."

Startled, the crew member jolted out of his chair, grabbing his stolen pistol in ready defense.

It was Ana Maria's round, ornate oak clock, doing its duty to be remindful of the time. It had already hit the twelve o'clock mark. That clock had been there for ages, as far as he knew. Stolen many years back, apparently.

Smug cocked his head, gave it a thought, and walked cautiously up to the clock. "Now, yer one place I 'aven't looked." He carefully lifted off the clock from the wall.

"Well, lookie 'ere!" the pirate grinned. The little piece of muslin came into grasp of his callous fingers. He had found exactly what he was hoping for:

The other piece of the map.

---

Only a few minutes had passed by before Jane witnessed a thinly built figure coming out of the cabin. She ducked down quietly, looking through the open spaces of the railings, trying to discover the intruder without revealing herself.

The lights were unfortunately unlit, thus she found it nearly impossible to tell exactly who it was, except by a dim figure line, thanks to the moon above.

What was that? Some sort of parchment, maybe? It was hesitantly stuffed into the person's jacket before he intruder hurriedly went down below deck.

---

Five days, out of a hopeful fourteen; already ahead, already coming closer to Port Royale.

Norrington had put John to kitchen duty only four days ago: he was to wash the dishes, help out the over-weight cook who couldn't speak properly, and scrub down the floor and counters.

"A 'ole lot o' gruelin' fun." as the cook liked to call it.

Still… that _map_ would _not_ leave John's thoughts. It pestered him every moment, especially at night, when he knew he could simply go down and ask that pirate more about it, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Jack never had answered him that night; he kept on staring at the floor. When the boy prompted Sparrow about it, the pirate looked up at him, muttering "It's none of your business, boy. Off you go." And that was the end of it. Just like that. No more true conversation pursued, even if he had be sneaking in food for Jack since they first met.

But why did this conversation of this map make Jack so suddenly solemn? Surely there was much more to the story than belie—

"Turner! Get over 'ere, boy! You've got yer chores to be a doin' now. Up to it!" the cook yelled as soon as he entered, a harsh scowl and a deep frown plastered on his cheeky face. He found John sitting there on the grimy kitchen floor, staring straight at his navy blue hat he had been holding, half-heartedly cleaned cooking utensils and a scrubbing brush lying beside him.

"Yes, sir." John muttered, slowly getting up from the floor.

The cook still kept eyeing him, even as the boy started to continue washing the plates and cups. John's heart thumped against his chest, hoping the cook had something different in mind than to stick around.

Did he know something, maybe? Something that he thought John knew? Or was he just thinking that this new kid wasn't doing his job, and he ought to keep a look out for him to make sure he did?

The cook eventually left after a period of fifteen minutes, but not before he gave a few grunts and a warning. "Mind yer chores, boy. Wash those dishes clean, ya 'ear? Or I'll be givin' a few words to de Admri'l."

John whipped into action. He walked up to the door; made sure the cook had truly left, and quickly begun preparing Jack's dinner.

Once done, he made his way back to the door, tray in hand.

"You've must to be joking." A huff voice came from right outside the portal.

John rolled his eyes and halted in place. He listened intently, his back pressed up against the wall.

The talking continued. The person was obviously with someone else, as it turned into a passionate argument.

Were they? No, they must've been the same people who he had overheard talking about the map, but why….

Shock instantly grabbed hold of John's body as he eavesdropped on every word. This could not be possible!

Instantly his thoughts came back to Jack—now he had something to barter with.

---

What a bloody mess he had gotten himself into now. Good work, Jack. Good work.

The infamous pirate was still in that horrible little prison of his, fed on only mangy scraps and dreadfully salty water.

That's what he hoped Norrington believed right now, anyways. Yes, he was still in that small, smelly holding that he had been first place in, but, with the help of a young Mr. Turner, the food was a little better than what that scum bag of an Admiral had planned.

Though his stomach was settled, his fears were not. His only daughter was still on the Black Pearl, with no means of hope. Maybe she was already dead. He obviously didn't know for certain. It killed him to think of her and what may have happened already.

And that map… that dreadful map didn't help much in smoothing out his complications, either.

Ah! Just as he had foreseen!

There came down John, his treasured hat placed square on his head to hide his glaring eyes, holding a small tray with Jack's 'humble' order: Some clean, boiled water, delightful soup, crackers, and, of course, a sweet green apple.

Time to be Jack again, Sparrow.

The pirate shot up from the floor, providing the boy a huge smile. He slid his hand through the open sections of the barrier, waiting to be handed the food. "Ah, right on time! …Now to find a way to get it though these bloody bars again."

The boy offered no words or movement in return. He stood there like a stake, still carrying the tray.

"Boy?" Jack prompted.

John growled in his throat, took a deep breath and exhaled it deeply. A frown curled on his face. His eyes, though not easily seen, squinted into a nasty scowl. "You can't keep doing this, Sparrow. We can both trust each other, and you know it. There's something you know and something I know; both pieces of information could be vital to us." Then he replied angrily, "In other words, Sparrow, you need to talk, or I may never be able to help you find your freedom again."

Jack, taken only _somewhat_ aback by the youth's words, stopped his ignorance—but only inwardly.

The pirate shrugged, trying his best to reach for the apple. Finally he was able to grasp and take it, and then sit down on the hay floor again to start chomping on the thing. "Alright then," Jack said after he took a rather large bite. "So what do you know, that you think could be so vital to us, eh?"

John clung to the bars, now sick of Jack's every move. He gently pressed his face up against the barrier, whispering "No, Sparrow. You tell me what you know first, then I'll tell you what I know," he then slightly cocked his head, giving a small hateful smirk. "Savvy?"

----

O, I like this chappy. ;)

As always, reviews are **much** appreciated. –Ancient Egyptian Dreams


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